a little bit of comfort
by wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Peter coughed, harsh and rattling, and Tony frowned as he placed a hand on the kid's forehead. "Nope, that's it. I'm not going." Peter is sick and Natasha steps in to take care of him.


Peter coughed, harsh and rattling, and Tony frowned as he placed a hand on the kid's forehead.

"Nope, that's it. I'm not going."

Peter lay back on the couch, exhausted from his coughing fit, as Tony tucked his blankets back over him. "You can't skip this meeting it's important."

His voice was rough and scratchy and every word pulled a wince from him.

Tony frowned. "Okay, no more talking from you, till your throats better. And, yes, I can skip it because you're sick, and that's more important."

Natasha walked in, and leant in the doorway, watching the two boys with amusement. "You can't ditch a meeting with the secretary of defence, Tony. Besides, I hear she has a bit of a temper."

Tony rolled his eyes and glared at her as Peter rolled over and curled into a ball, shivering as his fever raged through him.

"Oh, really? And, how did you find that out? Watching the news or did it come up in conversation when you slept with her?"

Natasha laughed. "It wasn't like that, we went on a date first. That woman loves her whiskey."

Tony shook his head, watching the woman smirk. "Which means you love her. Bit of a conflict of interests wouldn't you say?"

Natasha shrugged and went over to the couch, sitting on the arm rest near Peter. "She didn't seem to mind. But seriously, don't blow her off; she'll be furious."

Tony stood, gesturing wildly to Peter, who was coughing into his sleeve. "I can't go! Peter's sick, his aunt is away for work, and Bruce is in India this week. Who's going to take care of him?"

Natasha looked down at Peter's curled for, and shrugged. "I'll do it."

"Really?" Tony looked confused, and a little shocked, which was rather rude.

Natasha frowned. "Yeah, really. You don't think I can take care of Spider-Child for a few hours?"

Tony looked at his watch. He didn't have long before he was late for the meeting, but he really didn't feel comfortable leaving Peter when his fever was so high.

He knelt down, next to the kid and brushed his hair back, waiting till he opened his eyes to speak. His skin was so hot, he was almost tempted to forget all the rules about secret identities and not letting civilians see Peter's enhanced system and abilities, and take him to the hospital. But Bruce said it wasn't actually that high for Peter, who always ran hotter than everyone else.

Those hazy eyes took a little while to focus.

"If you want me to stay, I will. Just say the word."

Peter's narrowed his eyes a little, looking confused, and didn't say anything. Tony waited.

"Peter?" He was beginning to get worried. Why wouldn't he speak?

Natasha sounded amused. "You told him not to talk."

Peter nodded, laughing a little bit, and Tony sighed as he smiled and ruffled Peter's hair annoyingly.

"You, smart ass. Just nod or shake your head then. Do you want me to stay?"

Peter didn't look happy about it, but shook his head, and pointed to Natasha. Of course, he wanted Tony to stay, but he couldn't let him hiss such an important meeting, just for him.

Natasha looked smug, and crossed her arms. "See? He's fine, now go, or the Secretary of Defence will be mad, and it'll ruin the vibe for our next date."

Tony stood, watching Peter's hands twitch in his blankets, like he wanted to reach out for Tony but was holding back. He looked so miserable.

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this. Make sure he drinks plenty of water, and keep an eye on his fever; if it gets too high, call Bruce. And I don't care who I'm in a meeting with, if Peter needs me, just call and I'll come straight home. I'll try to be as quick as I can."

He gave one last, hesitant look to Peter, before he left. Natasha watched as Peter stared at the door, letting out a whimper before curling into a ball. So, maybe the kid hadn't wanted Tony to leave.

She wanted to help, honestly, she did, because she liked Peter. He was a smart kid, and always cracking little jokes during missions; he was like a smaller, politer version of Tony in a lot of ways. And she wanted to make him feel better. She just…didn't know how.

She didn't have many childhood memories, and as an adult she hadn't needed anyone to take care of her. She just didn't know how to make people feel better, especially not a kid.

"You okay?"

Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes, shaking his head silently. Natasha awkwardly patted the kids shoulder, watching it tremble a little, like he was trying not to cry. She tried to explain.

"Peter, I want to help, but I don't really know what to do. I don't know how to make you feel better. Steve and Bucky don't get sick, because of the super serum, and Tony never tells anyone if he is. Sam quarantines himself, and Bruce is his own doctor so he takes care of himself. Clint is different, if he gets sick I just make fun of him. I don't know what you need."

Peter made a noise, and Natasha thought he was crying at first, as she watched his shoulders shake a little, but when he turned to her, she saw he was laughing softly.

She smiled at the tiny giggles and flushed cheeks. "Why are you laughing?"

The kid raised a hand to his mouth as he coughed, and he answered with a small smile. "You're a genius, you know everything, and you can do anything, but you don't know how to comfort people?"

The assassin frowned, feigning offense. "I know how to comfort people, but you're a kid and I don't know what kids do. I've never had to look after a sick person before, and it's not like they teach it in spy school."

Peter recoiled a little, in confusion. "You went to spy school? Is that a thing?"

Natasha ditched her frown, for something more aloof, and nudged Peter's shoulder. "Nah, I was born this cool."

Peter went to laugh again, but was interrupted by a ripping cough, tearing through his throat, and making him whimper at the pain. Natasha put a hand on his shoulder and watched with concern as Peter curled back into his ball.

"Okay, Tony was right, no more talking. I'll…make you tea? For your throat, and we'll put on a movie or something. Stay there."

She quickly went to make the tea, and tried to think of what she was supposed to do. Tony had said to make him drink lots, and keep an eye on his temperature, which was obvious when it came to fevers, but what she needed to know was what Peter needed. How was she supposed to make him feel better? How was she supposed to get rid of the miserable look in his eyes? Tea probably wasn't going to do that, but it was all she had to offer.

Once the tea was done, she brought it out to the kid, only to find him, crying on the couch, with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

She quickly dropped the tea on the coffee table and raced over to him, taking a seat next to him in the couch.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

The teenager was trying not to cry too hard, not wanting to couch anymore. His throat hurt so badly he didn't want to have one anymore, and he felt like his insides were too hot, but his skin was too cold. He was just exhausted, and in pain, and he wanted to be the strong Spider-Man again, not sickly Peter Parker. But what came out was a hiccupped, wet, version of his thoughts.

"I hate being sick."

Natasha's forehead creased in concern, and her cool palm found its way to Peter's cheek, to feel the raging heat. "I know, I'm sorry. Bruce said it was because of that venom from the alien you fought with Tony and Cap. It hit your immune system so hard, a flu virus found its way past it and now your body's trying to fight it off while you're still recovering. It's a little too much all at once."

Peter let out a sob as Natasha rubbed her thumb over his cheek, wiping away the tears that fell over his feverish skin. "I just want to sleep; I'm so, so, tired. But I can't because I keep coughing, or my arm starts hurting from where the alien got it, and I want Aunt May. I just want it all to stop. I just want to sleep."

It was a sad sight. Peter's cheeks were flushed red, his hair sticking up all over the place, as tears rolled down his face; he had a small bandage on his arm, as a lingering reminder of his last injury, and his lanky frame was curled up in sweat pants and blankets.

Natasha couldn't help but want to hug the poor creature. So, she did.

She gently took Peter in her arms, and hugged him, hearing him sob against her shoulder as he hugged her back. Her voce was softer than Peter had ever heard it.

"It's okay, I've got you. You'll feel better soon."

Peter instantly melted into her arms, as if his body had been tense and locked up with pain, and had only been released when she'd hugged him. She remembered the way Tony had been brushing the kid's hair back, and how Peter had seemed to be holding himself back from reaching for Tony when he left, and she realised that maybe all he needed was comfort through touch.

He was growing heavy against her, and she held him closer. She thought about what Peter had said, about what he wanted, about how he wanted his aunt, and it occurred to Natasha that it wouldn't have mattered if she knew what to do or not, if she'd just asked him.

Her voice was low in the quiet room. "What can I do to help? What do you need?"

Peter sounded sleepy, as he leant his cheek against her shoulder, and his voice was muffled. "It's stupid. You don't have to."

Natasha rubbed a hand over his back as she answered. "It's not stupid if it makes you feel better. Just tell me."

Peter sighed, and pulled himself from the hug, pulling his blankets tightly around his shoulders, as he rubbed his eyes and mumbled out his words, embarrassed. "Aunt May brushes my hair back, and signs to me, or just stays with me till I fall asleep. But you don't have to. It's dumb."

The woman smiled as Peter peeked up at her through his eyelashes. "It's not dumb. I can do that."

Peter looked relieved as Natasha gently pulled him back to her, letting him lie down on the couch, with his head on her lap. She rubbed one hand over his back and the other through his hair, as he snuggled down. His tired eyes blinked up at her, bright and sweet as always.

"Thanks Tasha." His words were slurred a little, with fever and approaching sleep, and she smiled at his nickname for her."

Her hand stroked through his hair soothingly, calming him and sending him slipping into sleep.

"Goodnight, Peter."

He fell asleep a few moments later, and Natasha stayed in the same spot, until Tony came home. He hurried inside, ready to check Peter over and apologize for leaving, only to be shushed by an assassin.

Peter was curled into a ball, sound asleep, and perfectly safe. His mouth fell open, as he quietly dropped his work on the table and came over to the two.

"You got him to sleep?"

Natasha smirked. "I told you I could handle it."


End file.
